


sex joke inserted right here

by potat



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:57:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6111478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potat/pseuds/potat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>during a storm all the lights went out and now youre in my apartment bc youre afraid of the dark but i want to kick you out again since all you do is keep telling cheesy one liners, based vaguely on the prompt lmao i kinda went a bit wild with it i didnt proof read</p>
            </blockquote>





	sex joke inserted right here

One thing Nozomi had always prided herself on was her portable, battery powered radio. She had always kept it for the times that she took her parents’ old caravan for a weekend retreat, for the times she’d go to the roof of the apartment complex to simply stare at the stars along with her fellow employee and friend Maki. However, that particular night where the wind screamed against the city, rain pelted those few brave souls willing to try the streets, with lightning crashing down –thunder always a step or three behind- the weather had all but ruined the power. The radio kept her company as she lit the candles she always kept in emergencies, though also for the generic ambience and low lit comfort they provided her after a day of work. Sometimes she’d take herself to the bath, break out the lavender oil she always saved for rough days which needed soothing ends, light the red-wax candles and soak. With the weathers rattling the windows against their frames, the candles and radio were a familiar comfort.

Laying candles on shelves, lighting her path from the cosy living room to the cramped kitchen, Nozomi set some water in a camper kettle, thanking her lack of expenses providing her with a gas stove rather than electric. As she waited for the water to boil, radio jamming out a blues track, she searched through her tea cupboard, cursing the lack of light. Finding the earl grey, her mind briefly flicked to the blonde in the flat down the hall and she wondered how she was doing in the blackout. Nozomi had already supplied the elderly woman in the flat opposite with a few candles, taking her grumblings as the thanks she’d grown to know it was. Living alone was hard, so she understood the cynicism. If only she’d had enough candles for the rest of the floor, but really the darkness was not somewhere she was desperate to find herself in either. Besides, the candles were pricey and donating mere tea lamps felt more like giving a homeless person tuppence.

That was, of course, when there was a knock on her door. Jerking an eyebrow up quizzically, she swiftly made her way to the door, pulling a cardigan over her shoulders. Opening the door, she did not expect the blonde beauty of her floor to be cowering in the doorway. “Miss Ayase?”

“Nozomi!” It was a surprise that her name was even remembered. All the interaction they’d ever had was coincidental walks to the market or off-license, or those few times Nozomi had wandered into the music shop Ayase worked in. “Ah, um, sorry to bother you, but,” though her skin was usually light, Ayase seemed sickly in her pallor, a sheen of sweat over her forehead. There she was, shaking and frail, terrified, “I, uh, I didn’t know where to go and it, it was hard to get here but I made it, could I, could I,”

“Please come in!” quickly catching on, Nozomi all but threw the woman into her home, rushing and fussing over her. “What happened, are you alright?” Seeing someone usually so stoic and reliable, charming, in such a state was frightening. “I’m making some tea, do you want any? I’ll make you some tea.” In her rush to comfort her guest, she spilt boiling water on her clothes as she poured the tea, glad she covered her skin prior with the cardigan –she had a luck for these sorts of things. “Please, Miss Ayase, sit down, sit down.”

“Honestly it’s fine, there’s nothing serious going on-” she paused in shock when tea was shoved into her hands.

“Are you hurt? Were you chased, what’s wrong Miss Ayase?” the one thing Nozomi did not expect was for the woman huddled on her sofa with a death grip on a mug to chuckle in an embarrassed fashion.

“I’m just, uh,” again, that nervous chuckle, hair tucked behind a slightly sticky-out ear, “I get a bit silly when it’s dark…”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m… it’s, uh, I’m nyctophobic or I suffer from nyctophobia, I don’t know which one is the right phrase…” the blonde had by this time flushed a rather amusing shade of red, was hiding her face with a hand, whole physicality reeking of shame. The situation seemed ridiculous, then, to Nozomi, but the genuine emotion she could feel coming off someone who was otherwise so confident kept her grounded.

“You’re scared of the dark?”

“Clinically so, I’m afraid.” Vibrantly blue eyes looked up into her own then, holding her there before darting away again. Eli Ayase shuffled again, uncomfortable, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t be alone…” It was certainly not every day that a beautiful woman needed dire help in the middle of a thunderstorm. Nozomi wondered briefly if she should offer the candles, the tea lamps that she’d refused to give people on principle of their limited quality and realised at the beginning of the thought the pointlessness of such an endeavour.

“Why me?” the question was too tempting to leave, but again she found it fruitless to ask the moment she voiced it. It was clear Eli Ayase didn’t know herself; she simply shrugged. Of course there would be a much more complicated answer behind it, but Nozomi decided she didn’t really care to probe; she was happy to accept at face value that a gorgeous woman could only be comfortable in pitch dark with her company. Besides, an ego boost every now and again did her no particular harm. “I guess your lighting was knocked out like the rest of us, huh.”

“Everything down to my hello kitty night light.” Nozomi laughed along with her, thankful that someone in such a fragile situation had already turned to humour in her company. She remembered again why Eli Ayase had always piqued her interest, why she was always so ready to welcome the woman down the hall. “But… do you have electric? I can hear music?”

“Oh, no, that’s just my radio.” She chewed her lip anxiously, moving to get up, “I can turn it off if you want?”

“No!” a hand grabbed her arm. The grip was rough, anxious. “I, um…”

Nozomi smiled kindly, “I can stay.” For some reason, that gave the blonde pause to think. Her eyebrows crumpled her brow, she rubbed her arm in worry. The room was still for a moment, the only sounds being the thunderous weather and the blues in the kitchen, crackling occasionally when the signal cut in and out. The curtains edged slightly. An empty mug was proffered Nozomi’s way.

“Can I have another cup of tea?” Already she could see a slight sheen of sweat glazing over the other woman’s brow. It was obvious to Nozomi that this woman was pushing herself in an attempt to seem stronger, to regain some kind of independence that hadn’t been lost in those soft turquoise eyes. But she understood the attempt, the thought and wish behind the action.

“I’ll fetch my radio and make some tea, hm?”

The kitchen still glowed softly with sparse candlelight, soft woods of the cabinets lit with the shimmer, small buds of warmth centred around burning wicks. In the next room, her guest was humming along nonsense lyrics to soft blues, mellow jazz. Nozomi had always known that radio would be a great buy, a wonderful little thing she could get miles out of, and in that moment it was all that stood between a deity of a woman and a nervous breakdown. 

Though Nozomi herself hadn’t studied psychology, she had friends who had, and in her insatiable thirst for knowledge (knowledge she didn’t then have to transfer into essay format and submit, something she was loathe to doing) she’d read up on the chapters that caught her eye, taken the information to online searches, dug deep into what ever so piqued her interest. The fear of the dark, as she had learnt perhaps three years ago, was most prominent in children, obviously. Many people maintained a slight fear throughout adulthood, probably due to an evolutionary wariness which had stuck around in the blood, but rarely to the extent her guest was experiencing. What she had sat in her living room, jamming along to radio tunes, was an example of an anxiety disorder heavily centred around the fear of abandonment. It felt strangely uncomfortable, knowing something so intimate about someone who she’d only swapped idle chitchat with maybe three times a week maximum. Her feet patted against the floor as she swayed along to the music she could hear, mind so deep in her thoughts she did not then hear the other set of feet coming to join her.

“How’s it going?” the simple question startled Nozomi, who turned around violently, to the surprise of Miss Ayase. “Oh jeez, sorry to scare you.” Nozomi always forgot how much taller Eli Ayase was compared to her; seeing her looking down with her hands shoved in her back pockets in such an endearing fashion was in its own a pleasant surprise.

“Tea’s almost done.” Nozomi replied with a smile, hoping she hadn’t been caught dancing along to the radio. She busied herself, drawing a fresh mug from the shelf with a scrape and a clink, reusing her other mug to save room in the dishwasher she’d have to put on whenever the power returned.

“You dance really well.” Letting out a surprised laugh, Nozomi hit her company on the shoulder playfully, trying not to let fingers linger too long against skin she found worryingly cold. “Is the tea nearly done?”

“Ah, sorry, this stove kettle takes double the time to my normal kettle-” Eli Ayase shook her hands quickly in response.

“No, no! Please there’s no hurry, I was just wondering…”

“The wait will be over soon, Miss Ayase.”

“Nozomi, please, we’re neighbours for god’s sake.” Nozomi paused, again feeling that mutual quietness, though it was neither tense nor empty. It was peaceful as they bridged understandings together, meeting each other in the middle at a pace faster than Nozomi was used to with acquaintances turning friends.

“You’re tea’s almost done, Eli.” She corrected herself, smiling brightly, feeling that mutuality settling into place between them. What she hadn’t expected was the blonde’s smile to cause such a spike in her heartbeat, have her turn back to the stove too quickly to be deemed normal by any stretch of the imagination.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, Nozomi, but…” she edged back around, turning only her head than her full body to see the gaze lowered to the floor, “It must have hurt when you fell out of heaven.” The bashful smile then crowning Eli’s face was too much for Nozomi’s poor weak heart to handle; she burst out laughing, unable to stop even when she saw Eli’s smile turn to an expression of upset awkwardness. “I, uh, did,” she gulped in an attempt to persist, “Did you know that ‘screw’ rhymes with ‘me and you’?” the singing laughter from her host was contagious, it seemed, “I’ve got a thirst, you smell like my Gatorade.”

“Get out of my house! Leave!” Nozomi joked, weakly pushing against Eli who was laughing along with her, their heads bowed so low their brows touched softly. They kept laughing into each other, even then as the kettle let out a shriek to pierce the air, even when the batteries on the radio died. Oh how they laughed then, leaning into each other and feeling that mutuality again, that strange bond which surely must have been what lead Eli to go across the darkest hallway since she’d moved in, traversing the too-long corridor to meet the woman who could make her mornings that much brighter. Where the world was dark, Nozomi was the moon, her candles the stars, and Eli’s interest was piqued from that first amble down the stairs together. Soon their laughter drew to an end, and neither of them were taken aback by their proximity. Living alone was lonesome, and perhaps they were only imagining a need for physical companionship, for conversation inside the home instead of always out of. But whether that need was a constant or not, they found solace in each other then, in the darkness and the rain and the storm, in the candles.

“I should probably get some new batteries for the radio…” Nozomi mumbled, inhaling the warm air leaving Eli’s lungs. It was soft, comfortable where their skulls met, Nozomi’s eyebrows tickling Eli’s skin. Neither of them were ashamed of needing comfort in the long night. Hands rested on shoulders, on waists, but eventually Nozomi withdrew to sort out the brew waiting for attention, the kettle dying down. Pulling a drawer open and digging for batteries busied her for only so long before a hand was placed over hers, the taller woman holding her again.

“Sorry, I just…” she sighed against Nozomi’s neck, breath soothing against her ear, “I haven’t been hugged for so long…”

“I understand.” Nozomi responded softly, thick eyelashes batting down as she leant against her company. It was a strange night, but, unlike so many others she’d had, she couldn’t feel regret coming to punch her in the gut any time soon. “Hey, Eli…”

“Hm?”

“Are you from Tennessee?” in all honesty, she didn’t expect to see a confused pout on the beauty’s face, “Because you’re the only ten I see.” Eli seemed genuinely awestruck, leaving Nozomi to only laugh again, shaking her head, “How have you not heard that one?”

“You didn’t make that up?”

“Oh my god, you’re hopeless.”

 

Again the radio blared into the night, a solitary shield of sound against rain which had no intention of letting up, weather thrashing, pounding against the homes in the city. Few cars could be seen on the streets now, street lights illuminating the roads below, shimmering glows scattered across prominent dark. Most would be sleeping through the cold by this point, but two mugs of half-finished tea –still steaming- showed brief flickers of life in one apartment. Neither knew the songs being played any more, but that mattered surprisingly little to them.

One thing that had taken them a long time to learn once through university was intimacy through sobriety. Sat chatting, blankets from Nozomi’s bed draped across the two of them, cocooning them together in warmth on the sofa in front of the renewed radio, had at first felt strange, uncertain of what they themselves were doing. Perhaps it said something about them as individuals, but that didn’t really matter at that point; their conversations were far too exciting, too fun and easy. Of course it didn’t feel like they’d always known each other deep inside; indeed if it did, this would be more boring. It would’ve been less likely to turn to physical intimacy again. They were consenting adults, right? It felt safe to the both of them, fresh even. Sobriety and intimacy together was a world unexplored, and the thought alone was sad. Here they would make it happy.

It was too cold to shed clothes in their entirety. Though the cardigan which had saved her skin previously was discarded, a cotton blend button up was picked up from across the room. Jeans and leggings were lost to the floor, and for a long time they just lay together, Nozomi kissing her way along pale skin, across collarbone, dragging the warmth of her lips up the exposed neck as the blonde breathed in, out below her, a hand playing with her dark hair. Blue eyes trailed the length of exposed skin, revealed by the shirt too baggy, hanging off Nozomi’s back. One thing that had gone noticed was her gracious, gorgeous host’s cleavage, now she knew which was soft to the touch, warm, filling her hands. She was ever so tempted, drawn to those full lips, wanting to feel them against her own mouth but that, they had agreed, was perhaps too intimate for now. It was strange to draw such lines, but it made sense to them so why not? It made sense.

Melting wax, vanilla scented, wafted through the air still, golden flame glowing softly across skin, highlighting again enough to be seen; the high curve of Eli’s cheekbone, hands tracing skin, warming those entrancing eyes above her, shining off a glimpse of teeth past the lips following her neck, glorifying. They moved slowly, full sighs swelling into the air above them, soft huffs of breath spreading warmth, warmth. Fingers edged to unbutton that cotton shirt, Eli revelling in the soft skin. A worrying scar she’d later learn was from a simple surgery at age seventeen followed three inches below Nozomi’s navel, perhaps lower. Curious fingers stroked along it before gripping hips and pulling them down against her own. A surprised gasp sounded when hipbones met, slow, lazy thrusts muddling Nozomi’s mind briefly, breasts pressed against breasts, stomachs sliding over each other. The taste, the softness of Eli’s skin still filling her mouth, Nozomi let her own hands travel then, not so interested in propping herself up when being pulled down from her perch.

“What moisturiser do you use? You feel incredible.” Eli mumbled entirely seriously, Nozomi laughing against her body, ducking her head in against her companion’s chest as again she shook her head in bemusement.

“You’re an idiot.” Eli could feel the teasing smile pressed in kisses against her again and could only laugh in response at her own oddly timed question. Laugh, that is, until a thigh found its way between hers, a soft moan drawn from her mouth. That forgiving blues continued by their heads as further sounds were painted against each other, the slight creak of sofa springs, rustle of blankets, whimpers and sighs. Hands exploring further, Eli tweaked at hardened nipples, pushing and rolling with the length of her thumb, slender fingers, as she gave into herself and kissed along what had been exposed for her. Indulge she did, feeling that twinge of heat, the soft warmth between her legs craving attention, causing more whimpers to sound into the air. Nozomi would one day realise what those squeaks, those pleasant soft sounds meant, but for now it took her a few minutes to catch on, only when the thrust against her became more insistent, more forceful, less timing and more pressure being applied.

“Come on…” she moaned, the kisses against her companion’s skin becoming harsher, faster as she wiggled beneath her, craving the right touch. Again, this had Nozomi chuckling, only for the fact the she had discovered this evening that the ridiculously stunning neighbour of hers was a total cutie. Though she would’ve given months on end to keep hearing that sweet voice, watch that face screwed up in pleasure and desperation, Nozomi relented, a hand dropping down between legs, stroking softly against the damp fabric of underwear.

“Get rid of these, then?” teased Nozomi, as if she hadn’t insisted they stayed on for a while in the first place. The blonde’s hips lifted immediately as she reached to remove her own panties, but in her hurry she knocked pelvis’ with Nozomi, the burst of movement a shock to both of them.

“S-sorry…” Eli mumbled, blushing furiously. Nozomi reached down to take the underwear from her hands and threw them away with a flick of her wrist, smiling mischievously.

“No problemo, amigo.” Nozomi snorted, forgetting herself for a moment and kissing the blonde on the cheek. Without realising she’d broken her own ‘no intimate kiss’ rule, she continued and Eli, with no complaints, let it slip, feeding her own guilty pleasure of being enamoured too fast and too hard. The wonderful transgression was forgotten when she felt those soft fingers slide along the pooling wetness between her legs, spreading lips with whole-handed, circular motions. Dragging two fingers up the centre of Eli’s warmth, Nozomi watched the other girl’s reaction carefully, eyes flitting between those fluttering lashes, the mouth opening in a small gasp of pleasure, eyebrows knitting in thankful enjoyment as the tension in her stomach was eased albeit only for the heat to increase. The sound of Eli’s laboured breathing increased, huffs of bated breath released further, faster as her pulse throbbed deep inside her. Continuing with her exploratory circling, pushing, spreading of vulva, coating her fingers in come, Nozomi let her fingers soak and press against the throbbing flesh, feeling the twitches she was eliciting along the toned body beneath her.

Somehow the blondes hands shakily managed to continue their ministrations against Nozomi’s breasts, exploring then the whole length of her torso, digging into flesh occasionally whenever Nozomi hit that one particularly sweet spot, tensing Eli’s entire body as she waited to see what would happen next. Of course her body kept rocking against the palm held to her, an iron tang in her mouth when she bit her own lip too hard. “Nozomi, please, can you…” Understanding without words, the pace was picked up, ministrations quickening producing the soft noises of moisture against skin, still as the blues warbled on almost entirely dismissed by attention focussed so seriously elsewhere. Just as the songs played on, as did the rain, never ceasing outside, but inside for them it may as well have gone entirely, as they were gone in each other.

Pants and gasps continued passing between the two of them, Nozomi grinning when she finally saw the blonde reach bliss, eyes screwed shut, a stuttering moan on the tip of her tongue. Her voice cracked when she came, earning her a kiss on the cheek again, Nozomi laughing in exhilaration against her face, her skin. “You’re beautiful…” whispered Nozomi against her, that smile still flush against Miss Ayase.

Eyes fluttering open to look into a flushed face swathed in candlelight, still dazed from her climax, Eli reached a hand out, cradling the cheek in the palm of her hand as she searched for any trace of a lie. Of course there were none to find, and Eli held her close, pressing her own smile against her. She edged her body to the side, her hand stroked past the cotton brush shirt, along the smooth stomach and past the old surgery scar, dipping below underwear. “Your turn.”


End file.
